


Excuses, Excuses

by diamonds_and_rust



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hot Chocolate, I'm Sorry, Punishment, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:23:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4331919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamonds_and_rust/pseuds/diamonds_and_rust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader accidentally spills hot chocolate on Bruce's white sheets. He catches her chocolate-handed and decides that retribution is in order. Perhaps his idea of punishment isn't as bad as he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Excuses, Excuses

**Author's Note:**

> There's swearing, so if it bothers you, don't read it. I wrote this at four in the morning, so if there's something wrong/mistakes blame it on that. Otherwise, enjoy!

When you woke up, the Avenger Tower was quiet. You assumed that everyone else had left on a mission. This made you extremely happy. It was rarely quiet and some alone time was a blessing. With a smile, you practically skipped downstairs to the kitchen. Normally you would’ve skipped out on hot chocolate in favor of something a little healthier, but you were celebrating your solitude.

Taking your drink in hand, you decided to explore the tower a bit. Everyone was so private, and while you respected that, you couldn’t help but feel a little curious. Somehow things were much different without everyone running around.

Things were going great until you saw the door to Bruce’s room open. You liked Bruce a lot -in fact, you had been harboring a crush on him for a while. It wouldn’t hurt to check out his room just for a second. No one had to know, right? It was totally fine.

The room was dark. You ventured a step inside. So far so good. Confidently, you moved forward… and started falling.

“Son of a bitch!” you spat as you tripped over a shoe. You caught yourself before you hit your head on the frame of the bed. In your panic, you had dropped your mug of hot chocolate. As you stood back up, you saw that it had spilled all over the pristine white sheets on his bed.

Well, that wasn’t good.

Jogging to the nearest bathroom, you wetted a washcloth and rushed back to the bed. Desperately, you tried to get the chocolate out of the sheets. That only made things worse. In frustration, you tossed the cloth onto the desk next to his bed. “Fuck,” you exhaled.

There was only one solution. You would have to wash the sheets before Bruce came back and saw the damage. Frantically, you stripped the bed and gathered the sheets in your arms.

“What are you doing?”

You froze, guilt coursing through you. You had been caught chocolate-handed. Apparently you weren’t as alone as you thought. “Uh, hi Bruce,” you greeted. “I was… uh… looking at your sheets. They’ve got a little, er, chocolate on them.”

He turned on the light. “How’d that happen?” he asked, puzzled.

“Well, it was the ghost,” you lied in what you hoped was a convincing manner. “Because ghosts like hot chocolate. So in conclusion, I’m going to go now.” You attempted to walk past him, but Bruce blocked the doorway. He wasn’t exactly smiling. He definitely wasn’t angry, though.

“What’s the rush?” he murmured softly. “You’ve been a bad girl, spilling hot chocolate on my sheets. I think that you need to be punished.”

You gazed up at him, wide-eyed, and swallowed. Maybe he was angrier than he had let on. As long as he didn’t turn green, you were probably fine. Probably. “It-it wasn’t me,” you insisted. “Ghost, remember? The Stark Tower ghost.”

Bruce arched an eyebrow. “Mm, is that so? Does this ghost know what happens when it ruins other people’s sheets?” he inquired.

Silently, you shook your head. He tugged at your arms, making you drop the bed sheets, and pressed you to his chest. Oh. That’s what he had meant by ‘punished’. “Damn, Banner, I didn’t know you had a thing for ghosts,” you teased.

“As a scientist, I don’t believe in ghosts.” He traced a finger down your cheek, studying your reaction. “But what kind of scientist would I be if I didn’t at least check?”

The man had a point. You reached up and twined your arms around his neck. “What kind of scientist, indeed.”

He backed you up against the desk and then helped you sit on top of it. “If you want me to stop, just say the word.” There was the shy, quiet guy you knew. Of course, you didn’t mind this more aggressive side. It was definitely an appreciated change.

You reached up and dragged him down by the lapels of his shirt. Before he could react, you crushed your mouth to his. You drew him closer by hooking your legs around his waist. “If you don’t keep going, I’ll say many words,” you shot back.

Fighting a smile, Bruce carded a hand through his hair. “Fair the fuck enough,” he muttered, nipping at your bottom lip playfully.

“Bite me.” It came out more as a demand than as a request, and Bruce’s eyes widened fractionally, but he seemed willing to comply. He reached up, fisting a handful of your hair into his fingers and tilted your head back. His teeth sank into your throat; you shuddered violently. The sharp sting of the bite merely heightened your pleasure.

“Is this okay?” Bruce asked anxiously. You let out a breathy laugh as you kissed his jawline. His stubble scratched at your lips a bit. This was really happening. Somehow he liked you back and you were in a situation that was better than anything your mind could ever come up with. The doctor’s warm, rough palms slid under your shirt. It was hard to decide if you wanted to live in the moment or take advantage of the opportunity. Bruce decided for you when he tugged your shirt over your head.

Finally. One less thing between you and that special kind of bliss.

He unhooked your bra, the straps sliding down your arms. You slipped it off the rest of the way and tossed it across the room. His hands cupped your breasts.

“Bruce,” you hissed. His thumbs brushed over your nipples. Under the light touch, they hardened. Bruce watched your reaction carefully as he pinched the tender skin. Your back arched, pushing your breasts further into his hands. He squeezed, marveling the weight of them in his palms before sliding down your stomach. His hands came to a rest at your waist and his gaze locked with yours. His normally composed demeanor was gone, replaced with a passion you didn’t realize he possessed.

“These need to be gone,” he announced, tugging at the waist of your jeans. Within seconds they were on the floor, leaving you in only your panties while he was still fully clothed. He pressed against you, the sensation of his clothes on your bare skin was a sweet torture. Bruce took a moment to drink in the sight of you, dewy-eyed and breathless in front of him, practically begging for his touch, for his body. Then his fingers wandered down to your thighs. There he paused. Instinct took over; you parted your legs for him. Bruce smiled in satisfaction and gave you what you desired.

Bruce stroked over the fabric of panties, inhaling sharply. “Touch me properly!” you complained. You immediately regretted it when he tilted his head, his eyes glinting. Without delay, he tore your underwear away from your body and nudged your legs further apart. His mouth resumed its devotion to your throat.

He slid a finger over your folds and groaned into your neck appreciatively. “So wet for me, honey. You’ve been bad… Should I spank you?” he growled teasingly, slipping the digit inside of you.

“For a quiet guy, you’re really fucking kinky,” you gasped, digging your nails into his biceps. It was hard not to rock your hips as much as you wanted to. Bruce slipped in another finger, relishing in the whimpers that escaped your lips when he scissored them. The pads of his fingers stroked over that special spot, bringing you ever closer to the edge. But then he snatched away your pleasure just as quickly as he had brought it.

You opened your eyes, ready to either beg or reprimand. You stopped short when you saw him pop his fingers into his mouth. His lips wrapped around them greedily.

“Oh, fuck,” was all you could manage.

Bruce chuckled as he gripped your hair. “Not quite yet,” he replied. Without warning, he rolled his hips against yours. If he didn’t do something soon, you were going to scream. He must have sensed your need, because he moved you to the bed. The stain was dry and thus didn’t bother you as he began to remove his own clothes. You couldn’t help drinking in the sight of his nude body. A dusting of hair covered his chest and your eyes followed the trail down.

Grabbing his hand, you pulled him closer. You started tracing down his chest, reveling in his warmth. His breath hitched when you curled your fingers around his cock. Bruce gritted his teeth as you began to stroke his length. When you gave a particularly firm jerk, a bead of precome dripping over the head. You swiped at it with your thumb. It was time to return the favor. With a smirk, you popped your thumb into your mouth, encountering a slightly salty flavor.

“God, you drive me crazy,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

You blinked up at him innocently. “So what are you going to do about it?”

He dipped his head in order to kiss you deeply. It wasn’t nearly enough. You ached, needed, burned for more of him. Sucking in a deep breath, your nails scored down his back -not hard enough to leave marks, but enough to make him squirm. His mouth left yours in order to trail down your throat. He nipped at the skin along the way until he reached your hammering pulse. Apparently, he really liked the reactions he got from kissing you there.

“Bruce, I need you,” you moaned, hiding your face in his shoulder. Without waiting for his reply, you pushed at his chest so that he was pinned beneath you. Of course, if he really wanted to, he could’ve reversed the action. He seemed to be okay with this new position. You braced your hands on his stomach, rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his skin.

“You doing okay?”

Unable to formulate a response, you nodded. Slowly you rocked down so that his cock rubbed against your clit. A wail of longing bubbled from your lips. You were so close, so very close to coming apart that it was enough to drive anyone mad. You repeated the action, making his cock slick. Bruce shuddered in pleasure and squeezed his eyes shut. It was becoming increasingly difficult not to come. You whined, frustrated. His eyes flicked open.

“Shh,” he soothed, grabbing your wrist and pressing his mouth to your palm. He arched upwards, his length teasing your folds. Gripping your hips, he slowly entered you, all the while making sure you were okay. You hissed in a breath through your teeth once he was fully inside.

He pushed himself into a sitting position, changing the angle of his thrusts. You let out a soft cry as Bruce nipped at your throat.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered against your skin. Breathing laboriously, you lifted yourself up until he was almost completely withdrawn from your body before sinking back down his length. A low moan built in your throat but was caught there when he jutted his hips up into yours. “I want to see you fall apart.”

Bruce was far too talented for his own good. The combination of words and touches brought you ever closer to your release. As he slid in and out of you, he intoned his praises into your skin. “You feel so good. Wanna make you mine,” he murmured.

Brushing his damp curls off his forehead, you pressed your lips to his. He rocked his hips up. You whimpered as you squeezed around his cock. “Bruce, I’m -fuck…,” you trailed off, biting your lip. He was driving you absolutely crazy and you were loving every minute of it.

“You’re what?” he teased. He wrapped your legs tighter around him. “Are you going to come for me, baby? Gonna come around my cock like a good girl?”

Clenching your jaw, you attempted to look at his face. His expression was one of pure lust. You scored your nails down his back. Bruce increased his pace, fucking you even harder. With one final moan, you buried your face in the crook of his neck,. After a few slightly erratic thrusts, he joined you in ecstasy. Bruce’s lips parted as he sucked in a sharp breath.

He slumped back into the pillows, breathing hard, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. Tenderly, you flicked it off with your finger before rolling/falling off of him. You curled against his side, feeling immensely sated. This was probably the first time in a while you’d felt this great before noon. Bruce’s arm served as a decent pillow. He bent it so that he could play with your hair while you caught your breath.

“Is it too early for a nap?” he questioned wryly.

Laughing, you answered, “I hope not, because I’m about two seconds away from falling asleep.

“Glad I’m not the only one.”

After a few moments of silence, a thought occurred to you. “I hope you’re not too mad about the sheets,” you murmured, struggling between sleep and consciousness. A lazy smirk curled his lips.

“Nah. It just gives me an excuse to use your bed from now on.”


End file.
